


Best Thing That Ever Happened

by KHB123



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: AU ending, Action & Romance, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Blood and Violence, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, First Kiss, Fíli and Kíli Live, Legolas is still the best archer, Near Death Experiences, Sad, Stabbing, Thorin Feels, Uncle-Nephew Relationship, kiliel - Freeform, still dies, tearful farewells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25218973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KHB123/pseuds/KHB123
Summary: Kili lives, his brother saved in time, but Thorin dies in his arms with Bilbo at his side, knowing his beloved sister-sons are safe. BOTA spoilers, AU ending. [Kili/Tauriel]
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins & Fíli & Kíli, Bilbo Baggins & Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins & Thorin's Company, Fíli & Kíli & Thorin Oakenshield, Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> I always hated it when Fili and Kili had to die, because everyone knows they didn't have to. Tolkien should have know better! Fili could have become king and Kili would have had Tauriel (sorry, I'm a Kiliel fan), oh, and become a captain of the guard. It wasn't necessary. I love Thorin, but his death made sense after realizing all of his wrong-doings. Sorry, but death scenes between a parent and child (or in this case, an uncle and a nephew) are beautiful and heartbreaking. Same ending, but Fili and Kili live.
> 
> I'm splitting this into Parts. How many? Probably three or five. This chapter is mostly Thorin and Bilbo's POV.
> 
> I don't own The Hobbit.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin watches Fili get stabbed. Kili thinks his brother is dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always hated it when Fili and Kili had to die, because everyone knows they didn't have to. Tolkien should have know better! Fili could have become king and Kili would have had Tauriel (sorry, I'm a Kiliel fan), oh, and become a captain of the guard. It wasn't necessary. I love Thorin, but his death made sense after realizing all of his wrong-doings. Sorry, but death scenes between a parent and child (or in this case, an uncle and a nephew) are beautiful and heartbreaking. Same ending, but Fili and Kili live.
> 
> I'm splitting this into Parts. How many? Probably three or five. This chapter is mostly Thorin and Bilbo's POV.
> 
> I don't own The Hobbit.

It was one of the worst sights Thorin had ever witnessed. Worse than seeing the beheading of Thor. Worse even when finding his brother's dead body. Worse than the burning of Smaug and all the horrors in his experiences combined.

From the sound of the drums within the fortress, Azog appeared from the top. In his grip, half-struggling futilely, was a struggling victim with a mane of golden hair.

"No!" Thorin gasped in horror when he recognized Fili and started to charge forward, Dwalin and Bilbo following behind, but then stopped when Azog held up his beloved nephew, the young lad he raised like a son, by the neck for all to see. His blood chilled when the pale orc bellowed in Black Speech.

Thorin couldn't breathe. His heart was screaming with despair. _Not Fili. Take me instead. Oh, Mahal, please not again. I'll do anything. Just don't take Fili._ He almost shouted this to Azog, but he knew it was hopeless.

As Azog began to ready his spike, Fili looked down at his uncle, breathing hard. Tears escaped his eyes, but despite his fear, he cried out, "Go!"

 _No._ Thorin shook his head, his eyes shining with tears. He did this. He had sent Fili to his death. And Kili...where was Kili? He didn't even know if Kili was alive or already dead. _I did this._

He was trying with all his might to keep himself from crying out and begging for the life of his sister-son, his gentle, brave, and kind Fili, whom with his brother was more precious to him than life itself, because even when he knew his heir's fate was sealed, after all the love that Thorin deprived him of on this quest and the horrible burdens he had placed upon him, he owed it to Fili to be there until his last breath, who had accepted his fate so bravely and nobly that Thorin, despite his horror, felt a tinge of pride for his sister-son.

His eyes found Fili's. _I'm here, my son. Look at me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! I'm right here._

"RUN!" Fili hollered, his eyes never leaving Thorin's, before Azog plunged the spike in his back. Fili's tearful eyes met his one last time before drifting downward in pain and he went limp.

When his body dropped and hit icy ground with a thud, Thorin felt all the air punch out of him. It felt as though he had been run through himself. He stared at the body laying there, not seeing, not feeling. He couldn't react. His worst nightmare had come true. The pain was far beyond comprehension.

His brave, precious Fili. _Dead._ A part of Thorin had died in that moment. And it was all his fault.

While staring at Fili's body, unmoving, someone charged out of the tunnel and sprinted up the stairs. The flash of dark hair caught Thorin's eye in his shocked state. His mind started to work again...who was it... _Kili!_

"KILI!" screamed Thorin, and started to chase after his younger sister son. Dwalin called after him, but he ignored his friend. He was still emotionally wounded from Fili's death, but Kili...he had to stop Kili. He had to protect his only remaining sister-son, the other half of his whole world, his last remaining reason to live, before his recklessness would get him killed. His blood boiled with pure rage suddenly.

Azog killed Fili. His sister-son will be avenged, and the pale orc will not lay a finger on Kili. Not while he was still breathing.

When Thorin thought he was going to catch up with Kili, calling out his name once more, Azog jumped out the darkness. Thorin blocked his heavy blows just in time and fought back, his hatred for the monster blinding him beyond all reason, except for one thought that became a promise.

This _filth_ will not live to see another day. For Fili.

* * *

Bilbo was horrified by what he had seen. Desperately, he followed Dwalin and Thorin down the snowy path, but Thorin disappeared and Dwalin had reached Fili's corpse. The large warrior had fallen to his knees next the body, grief overcoming him, having his moment of sorrow before the orcs came. Bilbo knelt down next to him, looking at Fili's glassy blue eyes as through they bore right through his heart like a knife.

Fili was one of his closest friends. He and Kili both, who had watched his back on the entire journey and had even tried to protect him from Thorin's wrath on the ramparts. He was one of the bravest and kindest people Bilbo ever met, and to watch him die in such a horrible way was indescribable. His eyes filled with tears. If this was what the pain of losing a dear friend felt like, then he couldn't imagine how either Thorin or Kili must be feeling. Thorin saw them as his sons, and Fili and Kili were inseparable.

Then a miracle happened. A heavy, pained gasp suddenly broke through Bilbo's haze. To his shock, Fili's eyes were blinking and the young dwarf was moving, coughing up blood. Dwalin gave a yell of surprise and seized Fili's shoulders. "Fili! Lad, look at me! Can ye hear me?" His voice was choked up. His hands immediately went over the gaping wound in his torso.

Fili was heaving for breath, wincing in pain. "Kee...!" he gasped.

"Oh my…..He's alive," gasped Bilbo, relief seeping his bones, but the panic instantly came back. "He's still bleeding! He needs a healer!" Much like Bofur did back in the Shire, to replace Bilbo's handkerchief, the hobbit tore a large piece of his blue long coat (the dwarves made this look easy, he thought with the effort, but the adrenaline gave him strength), hoping to wrap up both sides of Fili's wound to slow the bleeding.

Then the orcs came. Dwalin growled and then started attacking them.

Bilbo took Dwalin's place by trying to put pressure on the wound, though the blood kept staining the snow from underneath. "Stay with me, Fili!" Bilbo ordered, trying to sound calm. Using his muscles, he lifted Fili's body slightly off the ground and placed the long strip of his coat underneath before wrapping it around the dwarf's torso tightly with shaking hands. Fili cried out in pain, but it was working; the bleeding slowed a little. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry," Bilbo kept saying, as he frantically tied the knot the way he watched Oin do many times on the quest. "Hold on!"

"Can't….feel….m-my body….." wheezed Fili. He must be recovering from his brief paralysis after the fall. That was why it looked like he was killed instantly. "Hurts….everywhere….."

"Help is coming!" said Bilbo. "You'll be alright! Just hold on!"

"My brother..." Fili wheezed, his eyes meeting Bilbo's urgently, trying to stay awake, "...he...he's needs to come back...in danger...somebody...bring him back...before he...please, Bilbo…find Kili...Uncle…I'm so….sorry…." Then he lost consciousness.

"Fili!" Bilbo shouted, but noted to his relief that he was still alive. For now. Feeling helpless, the hobbit kept both hands on Fili's bloody wound, tightening the rag over both wounds, while Dwalin fought off the orcs with murderous rage. Where was help? When more orcs kept flooding, Bilbo found himself standing up and throwing large rocks in their faces, killing them instantly with his good aim.

He desperately hoped Thorin and Kili were holding on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm no medical expert, at all, but I figured this would be the best way of stopping a two way wound from bleeding too fast. 
> 
> I also wanted Bilbo to learn something from Bofur tearing his shirt for a "handkerchief" and Oin showing Bilbo a few tricks of stopping someone's bleeding while bonding on the journey.
> 
> So in a way, Bilbo is saving Fili's life. I hope you think that's okay. 
> 
> Pray for Fili, and hope help arrives in time. Up next is Kili's POV.


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's Part two. This is mostly in Kili's POV, as the last one was Thorin and Bilbo's, concerning Fili's "death." This chapter is for Kili and Tauriel.

Kili was blinded by grief and pain as he hacked through all the orcs that came in his path. He had never fought more viciously in his life. Never had this thirst for blood. Orc blood. He would slay every single one of them that poisoned the earth, starting with the ones on Ravenhill. And then he would find Azog, and the orc leader would suffer the most. His death would be slow. That was a promise.

His brother was dead. He had seen him land on the ground, right in front of him. He had been below the fortress, he had seen Thorin and Dwalin-and Bilbo, however he got there-on the wall watching what was happening above him in absolute horror. Then he heard Azog's roar. Then he heard Fili's, his blood froze.

The next thing, he watched Thorin keel over with a grieving gasp, looking as though he was going to crumble from where he stood...and then came a sickening thud in front of Kili, right at his feet. Fili's staring eyes bore into Kili's mind like a flaming brand, the ghost of his pleading expression frozen there. When he pleaded Thorin to run? Pleading Kili to run?

He could remember the last time he had seen his brother alive. Fili had stopped him from following, told him to go in the opposite direction of the tunnels. _I got this,_ he had said, turning away from Kili.

_He was protecting me!_ Kili screamed as his grief and rage consumed him, his vision still red after seeing his beloved brother's body. His other half, his best friend. Every time he cut he sword into orc flesh, he tried to hack away the memory of Fili's staring eyes that would forever scar his mind.

It was his only reason to...

"Kili!"

He heard Tauriel's voice and his heart gave a sudden lurch. He ducked under more orc swings and butchered all three of them. Her musical voice always gave him that feeling, especially in the worst of times. _"Kili!"_ Then she gave out a pained yell and fear shot into his heart.

"Tauriel!" he shouted. In that moment, he remembered he had another reason to live. For the woman he fell in love with. An elf. _They are NOT taking her, too!_

When he brought down more orcs, he eventually found her...lying at the feet of Azog's spawn, Bolg, his sword raised to strike her.

With a battle-crazed roar, Kili lunged from the high walls and on top of the orc, struggling to cut his throat, but Bolg threw him off easily.

Still determined to protect Tauriel, as she did him many times before, Kili jumped back to his feet and charged again, his sword ready, but Bolg easily parried him off and then caught him bent over in a death grip. He couldn't move his sword arm. Panic gripped him.

Bolg raised his giant sword, but Tauriel gave out a pained cry and leapt on top of the giant orc, her grip grabbing hold of the sword. As Kili watched them struggle, Tauriel gave out a louder scream, her voice echoing across Ravenhill in her efforts. Bolg finally threw her off, easily like brushing off a fly.

When Tauriel looked up, her face twisted with pain, Kili looked over to meet her gaze, away from Bolg's raised sword. "Tauriel," he whispered, meeting her eyes. A tear escaped his own, like hers, but he gave her a small smile despite his fear. "I love you." He meant it with all his heart. He thought _I love you_ and then _I'm sorry._ He thought she was the most beautiful thing he ever seen, more beautiful than all the stars in the sky and all the treasure in Erebor. He was honored for her to be the last thing he ever saw in this life. He just wished they had more time. _Forgive me, Uncle. I'm coming, brother..._

He closed his eyes.

The blow never came. Instead, there came a whiz in the air, a jerking movement, and then suddenly Bolg released Kili. Sitting up on the ground, Kili watched with wide eyed amazement as the giant orc stumbled back, shock crossing his ugly features. An arrow stuck out of his neck; Bolg choked, but he still stood and started to growl, black blood dripping from his fanged mouth.

Without pausing, the blood in his veins fueled from the wrath of Durin, Kili clutched his sword and lunged at the spawn of Azog with all his strength, knocking the tall monster off his feet and thrusting his sword deep into the orcs chest. Even with Bolg pinned to the ground, choking on his own blood, the orc still struggled and grabbed the dwarf's arm, but Kili gritted his teeth and twisted his sword deeper into flesh and bone. Twisted...held it there...brown eyes meeting the half-blinded pair...

"That's what you get for putting an arrow in my leg, you wretched filth!" Kili snarled softly, his face an inch from the monster's, all his wrath shown in his dark eyes and was satisfied to see a hint of fear in the orc's. F _or hurting the people I love._ When the life faded from the orc's eyes, Kili yanked his sword out and then kicked at the body with a growl.

Then he turned to see Tauriel, who had turned to see where the arrow came from. He followed her gaze and was in awe to Legolas perched on a tower, at least fifty feet from a high and far-off distance, lowering his bow. He must have heard Tauriel's scream and then fired an arrow from the distance. By the looks of it, it might had been his last.

Despite his dislike of the Elf Prince, Kili had to admit he was impressed with his distant aim. Bowman to bowman.

It was then Legolas nodded in salute before turning to leap off the tower, pulling out Orcrist (Thorin's stolen sword) and stabbed it into the head of a giant troll below. Kili shook his head, scoffing. _Show-off!_

Then he turned to Tauriel, who was still kneeling on the ground, the tears still streaked in her green eyes. The two met each other's gaze. Kili's sword slipped his grasp, his anger forgotten in that moment as he found himself moving toward her, dropping to his knees, and then met her embrace. Her composure had given into pained sobs as she wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his neck, gasping for air.

He held her, hands rubbing her back and wrapping around the tresses of her long red hair. Tears were in his own eyes. Tears of relief that she was safe and Bolg, a spawn of Azog, was dead. Tears of pain and grief for the death of his brother. Tears of horror from all he had witnessed in this battle. Tears of shame from the realization that he had given up, had almost left Tauriel and Thorin behind, leaving them to consume in their grief. All these mixed emotions were heavy enough to let a sob escape him, and he hugged Tauriel tighter, not caring about any boundaries, or they were of a different race that should never belong together. _He did not care._ She was here with him, and he was here for her.

" _Le mellin,*_ Kili," she whispered in his ear, her breath shaking with her tears. _"Le mellin."_

Kili let out a shuddery breath. "I do not know what that means," he whispered back, repeating what she had said to him on the shores of the Lake after he told her, _"Amralime."_

Tauriel smiled against his shoulder. "I think you do," she breathed.

Then Kili found himself smiling and laughed a little, more tears escaping his eyes as he kissed the side of her head. He didn't stop there as he kissed her sweet red hair, trailing to her forehead, her eyebrows, both of her closed eyes, the salty tears that ran down her smooth cheeks...then finally, when she opened her eyes, revealing the green orbs that always enchanted him, he cupped her face tenderly and kissed her.

She tasted so sweet to his lips, soft and warm. He felt her kiss him back, locking tongues hungrily as her delicate hand brushed across the bristles of his cheek. He could taste the salt of her tears, hear her whimper from relief. As he ran his fingers across her cheeks until they ran through her silky red hair, his skin burned from her touch, causing them to clasp the back of her neck as he kissed her more desperately.

Not a day had went by when he hadn't thought of this beautiful red-haired maiden, the love of his life, his One, from the first moment he saw her after she saved him from the spiders in Mirkwood. Feeling the adrenaline of danger, her face had glowed with confidence, her green eyes twinkling as she smiled at him in victory. Her red hair a fiery beacon in the darkness. She was his savior, his firm and his love. He was hers from that moment on, no matter what race she was. He could not imagine living a life without her, especially in this very moment, as he hadn't imagined what life would be without Fili.

_Fili._

Finally, they broke off the kiss to finally breathe, dwarf and elf leaning their foreheads against each other. He closed his eyes, inhaling her breath. Then hot tears of agony escaped his eyes and he pressed his lips together to keep himself from breaking. He knew he was failing.

"Kili?" Tauriel whispered, caressing his face. "Kili..."

Kili leaned into her hand and let out a soft, strangled sob. Another tear escaped his eyes opened and met Tauriel worried green. "He's gone. F-Fili...h-he...my brother is gone!" he whispered. He then tried to look away, ashamed to be crying in front of her, but the she-elf caught him and pulled him back in her embrace, placing his head on her shoulder. His body went slack against her and shook as he cried, mourning for Fili. She kept whispering gentle Sindarin words in his ear that somehow soothed him, even when he couldn't understand it.

Though he wanted to block out the pain he felt for the loss of his brother, block out the image of his dead body landing at his feet, he knew that he would never be able to forget. He felt caught between two desires: life and death. Death to follow his brother, but life to follow Tauriel. And he would choose Tauriel, because he loved her too much to leave her, and he knew his brother would have wanted him to keep fighting. To live. To love, even it was with an elf.

Kili finally ceased crying and took a deep breath, shuddering as he reluctantly pulled back, his hands still on her shoulders. Though not even Tauriel's love was not enough to take away his pain, it was enough to give him strength.

A will to live. A chance to be happy again. In time, he hoped-no, he _knew_ -it would lessen his pain. Not today, or tomorrow, or even in weeks or months, but as long as he had Tauriel with him, time would heal his wounds. He had mourned for his brother, and he would have more time to do so again when the battle was over. Bolg was dead, but it was Azog who killed Fili. It was Azog who needed to die.

_Thorin._ He remembered Thorin screaming his name when everything in his world had been bloodlust and vengeance. Shame and horror gripped him from the memory. He had just left Thorin on his own, for it was he who had watched Fili die. In his eyes, Thorin was the strongest dwarf he had ever seen in all of Middle Earth, but he had never seen his uncle look so broken when he watched Fili die right before his eyes. Kili cursed himself for his own stupidity. He had left the only father he had ever known behind to deal with his grief alone. To deal with the orcs. Thorin needed him now more than ever.

"Tauriel...I have to find Thorin," Kili said softly, meeting her eyes again. He cupped her beautiful face one more time, savoring her touch before saying, almost to himself, "I have to go find my uncle."

Tauriel nodded. She closed her eyes and kissed his hand, let her lips linger for a moment. Kili wished this would last forever, but something in his gut was screaming with warning.

A cold, creeping feeling crawled his spine just as it had when he had been split ways with Fili in the tunnel. Something was wrong. Thorin was in danger. _Azog._ There was no other than the pale orc who would do anything to wipe out the line of Durin.

When Tauriel finally opened her eyes, they were hardened with fiery determination, like the fierce warrior she was, like the first time he had met her. Her hair was like a blazing fire in the snowy skylight. "I will come with you," she said.

Thinking her more beautiful than ever, Kili nodded. His brown eyes blazed just as dangerously, matching with her green, but also full of love and pride. There were no more words to be said. From the moment Kili had given her his stone and when Tauriel had returned her kiss, they had promised themselves to one another. There would be another fight after this one, but for now, anything that dared teared them apart would make it the last thing they ever did.

Together, dwarf and elf stood, picking up their fallen weapons: Kili with his sword and Tauriel with her daggers. They met each other's gaze.

_Amralime.*_

_Sevog i veleth nin.*_

Then they rejoined the battle, cutting down more orcs that charged in their path, side by side. Vengeance for Fili. Fear for Thorin. Love for Tauriel. Kili fought with a whole new strength as a true son of Durin. He dodged, parried, and stabbed, but when he had time to pause, he call out his uncle's name. His instincts were ringing stronger than ever and Kili grew afraid. Underneath his warrior phase, he felt like a small dwarfing again, lost in the midst of battle, trying to look for the dwarf who raised him straight from birth. One he would call his father.

"Thorin!" he shouted, desperately. "Thorin!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul translation:
> 
> *My love
> 
> Sindarin Translation:
> 
> *I love you
> 
> *You have my love
> 
> So this is Kili and Tauriel.
> 
> The scene between them in the movie always made me sob because it was so unfair and crushing. I also kept thinking that maybe if somebody shot a damn arrow at Bolg, Kili would have been saved. Legolas was standing on the tower within range sight, and I'd bet my money that he could have made that shot, even with his last arrow.
> 
> So in this scene, I've shown what could have happened differently: if Tauriel screamed a little louder in the movie and Legolas heard her, he probably would have saved Kili for her by shooting an arrow at Bolg and Kili would have finished off Bolg. Then Kili and Tauriel would have had their chance, and I'd like to think it would have been a really good one;) They were made for each other.
> 
> Just trying to keep a positive note, because the next chapter won't be. Far from it. The next will be Thorin's POV again.


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Three. Thorin's POV and the fight to the death.

Thorin stood, Orcrist gripped tightly in his hand, observing the silver glide of the blade stained black with Orc blood. Saved by an elf, and no other than the son of Thranduil, who had threatened to kill him, usurped his sword, and had imprisoned him and his company. Yet, Thorin recalled saving the Elf Prince from getting stabbed in back when throwing a blade into a orc.

Who would have known?

Then he saw Azog. A lone figure on the ice, waiting.

Staring at the pale orc, all feeling left him. There was nothing left in Thorin's body to comprehend the cold, murderous hatred the ran like ice in his veins. The need to kill this monster, who took everything from him. It was more or less likely that Kili had joined Fili. His sister-sons, his joy, his life...gone.

Eyes only on the pale orc, the cause of his suffering, he found himself moving forward, his hand gripping Orcrist in a readied position, wanting nothing more than to taste the blood of Azog the Defiler while he felt this elvish blade twist through flesh and bone. Perhaps it was his madness returning, but not the one from gold sickness. Oh, no, because today he had lost something far more precious than all the gold in the earth and would never get him back.

If one looked upon Thorin's face, his pale face and the iciness in his eyes showed he no longer cared nor feared whether he lived or died. Azog would be fighting a dead man...and that made Thorin Oakenshield even more dangerous. At this moment, the only thing the Dwarf King had to live for was revenge. And Kili, if he was still alive.

Azog watched with cold eagerness as his prey approached him with a readied sword. A horn of the orc armies echoed in the background, beyond Ravenhill. Behind the Orc King, the next army appeared over the hill, ready to outnumber all that stood in their path. Azog smirked, knowing fully well that Thorin Oakenshield would be outnumbered, would not survive another day.

But Thorin paid no heed to the army backing Azog. They were nothing to him. He did not fear, and he did not care. All he wanted was Azog.

And from the look of Azog, the pale orc could not agree more. Thorin Oakenshield was his and _his_ alone.

Letting out a roar, the Orc King charged forward on the ice, swinging his giant flail with massive strength. With the instinct of a warrior, Thorin dodged the blow by pulling back. He dodged and ducked each swing, the weight crashing against the ice. He kept moving his feet and swinging his sword to swipe at his foe.

It gave a tad of satisfaction to feel it cut the pale orc, but it was not enough. Not even close. Thorin would have him skinned alive. He would have his guts spilling across the ice. He would rip out the filthy black heart of this creature and eat it. These thoughts must be what usually runs through the mind of an orc...full of hatred, bloodlust, inhumanity...but it no longer mattered to Thorin what he was becoming. He had already sunk so low in his dragon sickness that he had betrayed the trust of everyone he ever cared for. He had tried to kill the hobbit, who had been nothing but good to him. He had sent his beloved nephews to their deaths because of his surety to win, knowing not that it had been a trap.

He had made far too many mistakes and many wrongs in his life to justify himself, the previous ones the worst by far, increasing the guilt and shame in his chest that had continued eating away his soul. He had failed the ones he loved, and for that, Thorin believed there was a chance that he would burn in hell for his wrongs in the afterlife...though it would be no different from now. This hell was white, made of snow and ice as cold as death itself. Cold as the feeling in his body that made him murderous.

Azog kept swinging the flail, roaring with determination the weapon kept crashing heavily against the ice, while Thorin leapt out the way, barely missing the blow. His blood burned with battle rage, frustrated beyond words that he cannot reach the pale orc with that bloody flail of his, but he kept his mind blank, his focus sharp. He would not let his emotions best him, not like the last time he had charged at Azog, on the cliffs of the Misty Mountains, overwhelmed with rage and shock to discover the pale orc was alive and a threat to his family. He would have lost his head that night if it hadn't been for Bilbo.

Azog had taken advantage of his mindless grief and used it against him, easily knocking him down during the charge. Thorin would not make that mistake again. Fili would be the last person Azog will take from him. Kili will not be touched.

The ice started to crack and Thorin slipped a little, waving his arms to regain his balance. His stomach jumped with slight panic, but quickly swallowed it. The cracks continued to spread. Azog's movements started to slow, no doubt revealing his foe's growing exhaustion for the dwarf's dodging. His heart quickened, feeling movement underneath him, splitting beneath his feet.

With a growl, Azog swung his flail again, and Thorin jumped back in the nick of time...but the flail had broken through the ice, causing a platform of ice to move suddenly underneath the two from the currents of the water below. Thorin gasped sharply as he nearly lost his footing, and ducked from the flail again.

The orc and dwarf continued to struggle with their balance of the floating platform of ice, Azog swinging his flail and Thorin dropping to the ground to avoid the blow. He was out of breath, the strength wavering as he felt his boot touch the freezing water, but he jumped back onto his feet...only to have flail sweep across his legs, causing him to flip over and land heavily on his back. Thankfully, he didn't slip into the water, where his body would be lost forever.

He gasped and rolled out of the way when the flail crashed beside him again. He kept rolling as the damned object buried itself in the places where he had been seconds prior. Rotating in a circle around the platform with these pointless blows, Azog grew angry. He was getting impatient, losing his focus with all his freelanced swinging...good. Thorin rolled out of the way one more time, before skidding from his knees to his feet, and charged under the arm of the Defiler, his elvish sword cutting across the thighs with a sickening tear.

Azog gasped and fell to his knees, but as a master of pain, the orc's resolve return and became angrier than ever over the scratch. Knowing Thorin Oakenshield to be behind him, he bellowed and swung his weapon backwards, high over his head, not even bothering to aim. Thorin jumped back when the weight landed deeply into the ice near the steel tip of his boots.

Thorin looked up at Azog with his darkest glare, daring the orc to continue. _Come on,_ he thought with growl. _Is that the best you can do, filth?_

Azog yanked on the chain, but the weight was stuck too deeply into the ice. The situation would have been humorous if Thorin was not too driven by his own need to kill. He was tempted to charge the pale orc right there, but if he moved, both would fall into the water. Looking humiliated, Azog swung the long sword attached to his arm, but Thorin backed away, the floating ice tilting back and forth beneath their feet. Dwarf and orc stood on either side of the platform, keeping it balanced, neither daring to move from their stance.

Suddenly, Azog's eyes widened with disbelief, his gaze looking beyond Thorin and into the view.

Thorin did not dare turn around, refusing to distract himself from his enemy, but he felt it. The gray sky that had been heavy with bleakness and misery started to shine from the breaking sunlight. The same bright color as Fili's hair. The warmth his back like the surge of hope that breathed ever so slightly from his frozen heart, thinking his Fili must be beside him at this moment, sending him help from the skies...

The eagles were coming. Their song was the same as they had been the last time Thorin had woken up from Azog's attack. Their flock swooped down upon the marching orc army ahead, the lord of the eagles ridden by none other than Radaghast the Brown. They swooped down upon the orcs, plucked them from the air, and dropped them high from the ground. As they easily rampaged through the army, another shape had fallen from the skies. The shape of a man quickly transformed into a bear, crashing and tearing through armies with a viciousness feared by even Azog the Defiler. His roars could be heard from miles away.

_Beorn._ Thorin felt his lips twitch. The orcs did not stand a chance now. The skinchanger also had a personal score to settle, one that involved every orc crushed and mauled with his teeth and claws.

For a moment, as the skies turned more golden, he could see Fili. His golden lion. He could hear his laughter in the air, both as a child and a grown dwarf. He could still remember the lad's skill for strategy, his creative instinct of becoming a fighter and a devious player at once. He could also see Kili's bright smile, the golden twinkle in his brown eyes that always lead to trouble. His adventurous, mischievous Kili.

_Mischief._ That was one of the few things his nephews had in common. A trait that gave Thorin his silver hairs early, constantly driving him near to insanity, but it was also the part of them that brought him to life. Even after Fili's death, Thorin still could feel his mischief. He knew exactly what Fili would do right now, and Thorin wanted nothing more than to act on that pleasure.

The icy platform bumped land. Azog had turned around to watch with dismay as the fifth army attacked his troops. It had been his mistake.

Thorin dropped his sword aside with a clatter, not needing it for what he was about to do. _Watch me, Fili,_ he thought with a tiny spark in his chest. _This is for you._ By the time, Azog had turned around, Thorin had lifted the flail's weight with both arms with determination and thrusted it at Azog, who caught the weight impulsively before it knocked him over.

When the pale orc looked up in confusion, seeing a small twinkle in Thorin Oakenshield's icy gaze, the Dwarf King only took one step back when he realized too late what had happened. Thorin watched silently as the ice platform tilted under the extra weight of Azog and the weapon; his feet slipped and flail dropped into the water with a splash. The Defiler snarled as his hands claws at the ice, staring menacingly at the Dwarf King, who remained unmoved as he watched the orc get pulled into the water by his own flail, the currents cutting off his outraged roars.

As the icy waters swallowed the Defiler into its dark depths, Thorin was met by silence. He was now certain the waters would drown away the wretched creature from this world, his body lost forever beneath the ice. A heavy, shaky breath escaped him, his beating heart still racing from the action. The tiny spark within him had diminished and was replaced with emptiness. Cold, bitter emptiness that threatened to break him.

His Fili was still dead. Kili was still somewhere out there, alone and consuming in the grief for his brother...or the orcs got him, as well. No, he couldn't believe it, for if it was so, Thorin _knew_ the loss would destroy him, in mind and body. He would never forgive himself, never recover. He suspected half of his mind was already gone the moment he lost Fili, but he would not show it in front of Kili. He had to go find his sister-son. They would collect Fili's body and get as far away from this cursed place as possible.

They would mourn for his heir together. Thorin would protect Kili with ever fiber of his being if need be, even if the lad hated him for what he has done. He was probably even blaming him for Fili's death, because Mahal knows Thorin blamed himself. He would spent the rest of his life making it up to him from the way he was treated previously. He would let Kili know that he loved him more than gold, more than life, more than _anything_ ….that he and his brother were the best thing that ever happened to him, his heart and his soul…..and always would be.

Feeling numb, swallowing the tears that threatened to shatter him right then, Thorin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his fists clenching so hard they drew blood. He had to stay strong. He had to. Kili needed him...or rather, _Thorin_ needed him more, just for reassurance that he was alive and safe. Fili would have wanted this.

He had to find Kili, and he had to see Fili's body again. And he needed to find Bilbo. He needed to apologize, beg for his forgiveness even when he didn't deserve it, for he cherished the hobbit's friendship greatly and desperately needed to rekindle it. Bilbo was as good as family, even when the halfling didn't realize it. He was good, gentle, caring, and so full of surprises. Like Fili and Kili, Bilbo Baggins made him feel stronger, braver, and perhaps had even melted his heart on most occasions, to help him remember that not all things in the world were full of darkness. Thorin had never been more disgusted with himself when remembering the way he nearly thrusted Master Baggins from the ramparts, the look on Bilbo's face through it all. He remembered the dwarves yelling in panic, Kili and Fili trying desperately to stop him…..the guilt was torture.

There were so many wrongs that he had to right. He would give a large portion of the treasure to Lake Town, and the white jewels to Thranduil. Even then, it would never be able to undo the past. It did not matter to him. All he needed was the forgiveness of two of the most important people in his life. If Fili were alive, it would have made three. Thorin let out another shaky breath, ignoring the ache in his chest that suffocated him.

He will not break. He would not give in, however much he wanted to.

Slowly, Thorin knelt down and picked up Orcrist. When he looked up, he spotted movement beneath the ice. His eyes widened as he watched the shape of Azog's body gliding beneath the surface of the ice, his eyes still open and moving.

So, the Defiler managed to loosen the weight...but it would do no good. The freezing waters alone should be seizing the orc's body while it drowned him.

Thorin knew he should walk away, let the frozen river do its work. Azog meant _nothing_ to him. Nothing more than a spreading infestation that has wiped out most of his family and so many others, now being washed away into oblivion...yet Thorin wanted to watch it happen. He wanted to see the light leave the monster's eyes. He wanted his own cold, empty face to be the last thing that piece of filth ever saw alive, so that he would know that had failed to end the line of Durin.

Thorin walked slowly above Azog, their eyes meeting from the barrier of the ice. _You killed my kin. Here I stand, above your corpse, Azog the Defiler. You may have taken my heart...but you will never have me._ He hoped the barren life in his eyes read every thought his mind to the orc.

Then the orc closed his eyes. But still, Thorin kept watching. Instinct told him to. Something felt wrong.

Suddenly Azog's eyes popped open. A burst of fire erupted through Thorin's foot from the tip of a blade, nailing him to the ice. The Dwarf King let out a cry of shock and agony, unable to move from where he stood.

Then the giant Gundabad orc exploded from the ice, knocking Thorin on his back. Stunned by his own foolishness, fear finally entered Thorin's system with full force as Azog now stood over him, alive and still breathing. As Azog swung his spike at him forcefully, Thorin managed to block the blows. Then he managed to block the spike, the tip stopping an inch from his chest.

Struggle as he might from the pale orc's strength, his breathing quickening with brief panic as he meant the fetish snarl of his lifelong enemy, Thorin knew he was trapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Be Continued! Hanging from a cliff!
> 
> This was an emotionally draining chapter, just so you know. Every time I watched Thorin fight the final battle with Azog, the emotionless expression on Thorin really broke my heart, making him look dead inside and more dangerous than ever, showing how much Fili's death affected him. And then at the point when the eagles came, if you've noticed how the sunlight appeared in the bleary sky (symbolism for hope;), I thought of relating the golden colors of Fili's hair and the colors of heaven in the sky, adding more symbolism in that moment when the eagles came to defeat the orc armies. Then when Thorin threw Azog's own weapon at him, looking almost smug, it almost seemed like he was repeating something Fili and Kili would do. I know in this story, Fili and Kili don't die, but in the movie, I thought these specific parts represented the spirits of them fighting back with Thorin, that even death itself would not stop them from being by Thorin's side until the end.
> 
> I think we all know what going to happen from here. All the same, there's still Kili and Bilbo to worry about. Up next is the second to the finale.
> 
> Next will be Thorin, Kili, and maybe Bilbo's POV.


	4. Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Azog are locked in combat.

_Thorin knew he should walk away, let the frozen river do its work. Azog meant nothing to him. Nothing more than a spreading infestation that has wiped out most of his family and so many others, now being washed away into oblivion...yet Thorin wanted to watch it happen. He wanted to see the light leave the monster's eyes. He wanted his own cold, empty face to be the last thing that piece of filth ever saw alive, so that he would know that had failed to end the line of Durin._

_Thorin walked slowly above Azog, their eyes meeting from the barrier of the ice. You killed my kin. Here I stand, above your corpse, Azog the Defiler. You may have taken my heart...but you will never have me. He hoped the barren life in his eyes read every thought his mind to the orc._

_Then the orc closed his eyes. But still, Thorin kept watching. Instinct told him to. Something felt wrong._

_Suddenly Azog's eyes popped open. A burst of fire erupted through Thorin's foot from the tip of a blade, nailing him to the ice. The Dwarf King let out a cry of shock and agony, unable to move from where he stood._

_Then the giant Gundabad orc exploded from the ice, knocking Thorin on his back. Stunned by his own foolishness, fear finally entered Thorin's system with full force as Azog now stood over him, alive and still breathing. As Azog swung his spike at him forcefully, Thorin managed to block the blows. Then he managed to block the spike, the tip stopping an inch from his chest._

_Struggle as he might from the pale orc's strength, his breathing quickening with brief panic as he meant the fetish snarl of his lifelong enemy, Thorin knew he was trapped._

Thorin felt his arms burning as he struggled, Azog towered above him like a snowy mountain above the fall over and crush him with all of its worldly weight. Oricrist was tilted sideways, pressed above him as he blocked the armed claw of Azog the Defiler, it's tip hovering inches from the center of his chest with a shaking force. His heart pounding frantically, Thorin gritted his teeth and let out a breathless groan as his arms started to tremble. He knew he was failing, that he was weakening, but he would hold on.

The small part of him that still wanted to live had resurfaced with full force the moment Azog had unexpectedly burst out the ice like a jack in the box. It was not that Thorin feared death...if anything, death seemed like a soothing notion for all the pain he felt in his long years of living and fighting...for all the battles he had seen and all the losses he had suffered...but when he saw the expression on the monster's face above him, it was that will alone that made Thorin want to wipe off that cheshire grin growing on the orc's wolfish face.

Though it had always been his wish to perish in battle, it had never occurred to Thorin until now that he may be killed by the pale orc, an enemy he had long thought dead until a few months ago. The thought was outraging. His grandfather, his nephew...and now _him!_ He would be damned that he would be slain by his family's killer without gaining the chance to avenge them, while saving those who still lived. With this thought, Thorin growled from back of his throat, though his strength alone was not enough the budge the spike, only to slow it down. How long would it be until Thorin would finally give in and accept the fate that he soul craved for a long time?

Azog, pale eyes lighting a sadistic gleam, smirked with triumph. The fool! Did the mighty Oakeshield really think that the waters under the ice would be enough to kill the King of the Orcs? Azog seemed so sure now that he had the Dwarf King. He would finally be able to wipe out the line of Durin.

Then, somewhere in a faraway distance, a voice echoed in the chilly wind, _"Thorin! Uncle!_ "

Thorin gasped, ice trickling his veins. _Kili,_ he thought. His Kili. His sister-son. He was still alive. Or was his maddened mind playing tricks on him?

But no. Azog's eyes flickered up briefly from hearing the young heir of Thorin Oakenshield's voice, the last remaining descendant of Durin. The black-haired brother of the golden one he had slain. His smile grew wider as he looked back down on Thorin, who's fear now shown more openly in his eyes for not his own life, but for the life of the young dwarf who called him "uncle."

Delighting in this agony on the warrior's face, Azog leaned over, pressing more of his weight on the spike hooking the elvish blade, causing a desperate groan to escape his soon-to-be prize. He bared his fangs like the predator he was. "Do you hear that voice, Oakenshield?" he hissed in Black Speech. He could not help but feel the desire to taunt his prey before their deaths. "Can you sense the fear in that pathetic whelp of Durin calling to you? The fear will have no comparison for I have in store for him. You will die first, but when I have him in my grasp, the last of the line of Durin..." He leaned in closer. "...I will not be quick as I had done with his brother. Oh, no...I will savor this last victory. I will finish him off _nice and slow."_

_NO!_ Breath escaped him, his eyes widening with pure horror. Though Thorin never understood the language, he _knew._ He knew what Azog had just told him, knew what he was planning to do. He read it in the orc's pale blue eyes, the malice, the hunger for blood, for pain...an evil that has given Thorin night terrors for most of his life. The night terrors had grown when Fili and Kili were born.

This was real. The pale orc was alive. He had already killed Fili, and once Azog succeeded in finishing Thorin, he would go after Kili...but from the gleam in the monster's eye, his youngest's death will not be swift like his brother's. Azog would make him suffer. Whatever this albino will do to Kili will ravage his young nephew beyond recognition. He read it in the orc's eyes and grin. Thorin felt his blood boil like magma as he growled, shoving against the weight will all of his might...but Azog only pressed down further, the tip of the claw grazing his chest.

_Kili._ He could still hear his sister-son calling for him. He could even hear Fili's voice calling out for him like an echo in the wind, begging him to hold on, to fight. _Fili._ Oh, how he wished to see him again. Both of them, together...at least one more time. It made the tip of the spike seem too sweet.

Azog would kill them all. His family's death would not be avenged, Kili and Dis would be left for the hunt, and the dwarves of Erebor will be forsaken, all while Azog is alive, the leader of the Orc Army. He would not let that happen! Not even if it costed his life!

His life...There was only one way he would be able to strike the pale orc, so far and yet so close, only feet above him. As he stared up at his enemy, only inches from taking his life, Thorin felt the tension in his face drain and become more relaxed. It was strange. Death was staring at him in the face, bearing the image of his worst nightmares, and yet he was not afraid. Not anymore. In the dragon sickness, he remembered having time to reflect on what he had become, on what he had nearly destroyed for the sake of a cold, hard object that twisted his mind and heart into that of...of a monster. The burden of his sins weighed him down on the ice, the memory of his kin and Fili's death even more. It was more than he could bear any longer.

He wished he could see Kili one more time, at least. His precious joy. His heart. His life.

_My son._

He could see a little dwarfling with tousled dark hair and shining brown eyes that melted even the hardest of hearts. Eyes that had always looked at him in adoration, if when Thorin felt he didn't deserve it. He was so small, smaller than most dwarflings his age, but he was happy. His babylike face always glowing with all its beautiful innocence. There was no pain or sorrow or betrayal marked on the child. His smile was joyful and humorous, his laughter high and unworldly, and his eyes full of a child's unconditional love for the only father he ever knew. He could feel the child's tiny hands touch his face when he held the dwarfing close, palms soft and unblemished, always comforting for the ones he loved. The little dwarfling's beautiful face appeared his mind.

_Unca Thowin._

It was the only way, and Thorin accepted it without fear. In order to defeat Azog, and in order to save Kili...his Kili...he would give the pale orc the one thing he had always desired: to kill him. Azog may take his life...he may have already taken Fili's, but he will never have Kili. Whatever it took, no matter the consequences, his beloved nephew will live.

_Unca Thowin._

Thorin's eyes shined, the child's imagined face blinding him from the orc's. A child he raised from the moment the little one was born, an honor that he felt was greater than all his actions as King. He had not regretted one second of watching the babe grow into a fine, spirited, rambunctious warrior, for this little dwarfing, precious and pure, had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. He could see Kili's smile, bringing more peace in his still-beating heart and warmth in his cold bones, even now, in the face of death. He vowed over and over that he would never let anything happened to this young dwarf who was as good as his son, even at the cost of his own life. He would have that child of starlight live on, bringing strength and happiness all around. It was a treasure worth dying for.

He made his decision. If this is how it should end, then so be it.

_I love you, Kili._

After that moment, with fluid motion, he then slide Orcrist out of the hook of the spike, releasing the hold...and then felt the claw swiftly impale right through the center of his chest like an explosion of hot pain.

His mouth opened into a soundless cry, as the blade sunk deeper, tearing through his flesh and lungs to the point when he couldn't breathe. Blood roared in his ears, filling his lungs. Everything within him wanted to collapse, here and there. But he had to hold on...oh, Mahal, the pain was excruciating!

The deeper the blade went, however, the closer Azog leaned over him with absolute triumph with his jeering face, hungrily watching Thorin writhe in agony.

The Dwarf King's soundless cries turned into a snarl. Though drowning in his pain, Thorin's eyes blazed as he stretched out his right arm and plunged Orcrist deep into the monster's left side, through metal, flesh, and bone. Azog froze, his own snarl frozen on his face as a wheeze escaped him. He had not seen it coming!

Summoning all his strength, Thorin gritted his teeth and shoved the sword deep into the orc's chest, causing them both to roll over in the ice and have their positions reversed. Blood lapping in his lungs, the agony stealing his breath between menacing growls, Thorin managed to straddle his enemy beneath him, holding desperately on the hilt of Orcrist to keep himself upright. He knew death was threatening to pull him down, but he kept all of his focus on the pale orc, who lay on his back in the ice, apparently still fighting the mortal wound like the beast he was.

No! Azog will not escape this. Not this time! Pulling Orcrist back, shifting it more to his right, he plunged his sword downward with a grunt, putting of his strength, all of his hatred, but most importantly, all of his love for those who had died and for those who still live into his thrust. _For Thror, for Thrain, for Frerin, for Fili...for Dis, for Kili._ He gave it everything he had! The blade tore right through the heart of Azog, impaling right the hard layers of ice beneath with a crumbling sear, pinning the orc down.

Eyes wide, Azog let out a strangled sound of surprise. His arms and legs went limp, but the Dwarf King didn't release him. Thorin kept a firm hold on the hilt, blood staining his teeth as he snarled like an animal, his blue eyes blazing with a fire that would burn right through the ice. Through the windows of the soul revealed all his mad rage, his agony, and his sorrows as the mortal blow through his elvish blade.

Watching the pale orc wheeze in fear and confusion at his mercy, Thorin leaned over to look into his enemy's eyes to make sure the albino was looking right at him. Him, the supposed prey, part of the line of Durin, defeating Azog the Defiler...and Azog would know it.

And Kili was safe. His sister-son was safe.

"The line of Durin will prevail," Thorin rasped into the orc's shocked face. With another heaving pant, he leaned closer and breathed venomously, "You will _never_ have him."

Another strangled sound left Azog as he stared incredulously up Thorin Oakenshield, the prey that he should have killed, but never had imagined to have met this end. With the horrified confusion still frozen on his face, his head fell back and noise died, staring sightless upward into the sky.

Azog the Defiler, at long last, was slain.

Thorin stared intently into the glassy eyes of the Defiler, until he was sure his enemy was dead. For good, and this time, he had seen it with his own eyes. His breath came out dry and raspy, the pain flaring through the entirety of his chest like a bursting flame. The two-pincered spike was still stuck there, limp and useless.

Shifting sideways, he wrapped a gloved hand around the spike, his other gripped the hilt for support, and let out a small, whimpering groan as he gently but swiftly pulled it out, the movement making a small squelching sound to his ear that made the blood in his lungs start to well with sick. He grunted as he finally rolled to the side and crouched over the ice, keeping sharp, hazy eyes on the corpse, finally processing that the Defiler was gone. Orcrist remained impaled into the heart of the orc, and would stay that way, for Thorin no longer had to strength to use it again.

Blood dripped from the wound from his chest through his back, puddling around the ice as he knelt there for a moment, trying to find his breath. From the pain, the shortage of breath, and the weakening in his limbs, he knew he was dying.

But while staring at the dead filth lying next to him, a final spark of pride fuel his blood and anger gave feeling back into his muscles. While he still had some strength left in him, and though his body threatened to give away completely, Thorin was determined to not die beside this creature. With strength he didn't know he had left, Thorin pushed himself upright and managed to stand up, panting as he felt the wound seep through his clothing and drip around his feet. His foot still burned from the spike's entrance, but he was determined to walk away while he still could.

He would keep his head high. He would move, step by step, try to ignore the pain, and focus on the clear horizon that opened with the golden beams of the sunset. He had lived as the King of the Dwarves...now he was determined to die like one. With dignity, if not with honor.

Slowly, Thorin turned and started moving away from Azog, not looking back, walking slowly towards the edge of the cliff, sloping with a frozen waterfall that shined like crystals in the light. His whole body felt as though they carried a mountain that boiled with searing flames, scorching through his chest where each drop of blood escaped, causing each breath he took start to grow heavier.

The Lonely Mountain loomed in view with all of its magnificence, already looking brighter and more welcoming rather than dark and desolate. This was the kingdom he had ventured to reclaim for so long, and when he finally did, Thorin regretted that the time he had in his home had been dark. It was only the moment he had overcome his dragon-sickness, the moment he shared with his sister-sons, and the moment he had asked his fellow dwarves to follow him one last time that had finally gave him the pride of returning home. It was undeserved, but Thorin had been determined to redeem himself. He did not expect to live through the battle, but he would start by regaining his honor by defending his homeland and his people. There was so much left to regain, so much left unsaid...but it didn't matter anymore.

Standing at the edge of the frozen waterfall, the battlefield appearing in his view, he saw the event that had unfolded, a heavy gasp preserved as he struggled to stay standing. The orcs were fleeing, the eagles were flying around and above, and the allies were driving what was left of the enemy off. Azog the Defiler, the Orc Leader, was defeated. The battle was won. Erebor was safe.

The sound of Fili's triumphant laughter echoed in the winds, lifting the weight from Thorin's mind. His eldest nephew would be at peace. And soon, Thorin would be seeing him again.

Despite all that he had suffered, he felt relief. Immense relief. Thorin was happy to die here. His home. After so long, he would finally rest. He regretted not living to see the rebuilding and restoration of his kingdom, not making up for his previous wrongs, and most of all, to watch Kili grow and start a family of his own. To become King Under the Mountain, but knowing it would all happen was enough.

Thorin felt his strength failing rapidly, when he heard a familiar voice cry, "Thorin! Uncle!"

_Kili. My boy..._ He did not hear the fear in his sister-son calling out for him; only that it was a sound he thought he would never hear again. He could hear footsteps quickening, though they seemed so far away. Though his body felt heavy and wounds kept flaring, he felt this wash of immense relief wrap his soul. The mountain of Erebor seemed to tilt, his vision swimming with dizziness that distorted all else.

Finally, his strength leaving completely, Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, gave up the struggle. With another heaving breath, his legs gave away and he began to fall...only for arms to catch him before he hit the icy ground.

Thorin felt those familiar arms cradling him as he leaned heavily against the catcher's chest. Those familiar arms slowly lowered him onto the ground, the owner's anxiously gasping quickly between sobs of fear and grief, a gloved hand brushing sticky hair strands out of his bloodstained face as Thorin let out strangled cough, blood dotting his lips as he struggled to breath in the catcher's arms.

His head pillowed at the cradle of the newcomer's arm, he could hear the voice calling out him in whispers.

When Thorin opened his eyes, the skylight blurred all else. He managed to focus his vision on the face that leaned over him. When he began to see more clearly, he already knew who it was before he opened his eyes. The outline of his young face was unmistakable, his brown hair raining around his face in its usual wildness and the dark pools of his eyes brimming with emotion. The golden sunlight framed the shape of this dwarf's frame, revealing the purity of his spirit that never ceased to amaze. It did not seem real…..but he did not care.

Seeing his beloved sister-son leaning over him, alive and unharmed, warmth spread within him.

Thorin whispered softly, "Kili."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amazing how such a short scene has so many thoughts going through a character's head, right? In mere seconds, especially in the face of death, I can imagine that time slows when anyone has any final thoughts. These were Thorin's, and most of them regarded Kili.
> 
> I meant to make this chapter as the next to last, but that's actually going to be the next chapter, since this one extended longer than I anticipated.
> 
> The next will be Kili, Thorin, and Bilbo's POV. The last chapter will be expected for Fili, Kili, and Bilbo.


	5. Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin dies in his Kili’s arms. Bilbo is present.

_The eagles are coming!_ thought Kili, watching with his mouth agape when he had seen the eagles appear from the golden horizon. _Fili._ Tears appeared in his eyes, watching with his feelings torn with grief and triumph as he watched the magnificent birds sweep like a massive claw across the orc army. He had watched and lifted his sword, yelling in Khudzul as he watched the man form of Beorn transform into a bear as he dropped out the sky and crashed into the monstrous army with a thunderous roar.

As Kili fought through more orcs, he caught sight of Tauriel easily slicing through as many orcs, her green eyes lit with more confidence, for she too knew hope of victory had arrived. And Mahal, she looked beautiful!

But Kili's thoughts remained on finding his uncle. The fear for his mother's brother was still too raw.

He heard Thorin's scream suddenly and looked in the direction of where it came from. The hairs on his skin rose in horror, hearing the pain in his uncle's voice. He was torn between leaving Tauriel and setting off in the direction to find Thorin.

"Go!" shouted Tauriel, catching his eye in understanding. "I can handle myself!"

"Be careful," Kili told her, as he stabbed an orc.

" _You_ be careful."

Nodding at her, Kili turned and started running. More orcs charged at him, but less attacked him as more eagles kept unexpectedly swooping down and snatching two or three more into the sky. One had swept so close that it had knocked Kili backwards with a thump.

Jumping back to his feet, he shouted as loud as he could. " _Uncle!"_

He didn't know how much time had passed or how many orcs he had cut down to try the reach the destination of where he had feeling he might find Thorin.

After fighting through another crowd of orcs, while dodging more eagles swoops, Kili eventually found himself near the rocky ledge of the icy precipice. Seeing the icy glacier that flattened directly toward the view of the Lonely Mountain, the frozen falls cutting between the fortresses of Ravenhill, Kili was stuck clashing swords with another large orc when he glanced over and his eyes widened when spotting Azog standing over Thorin, who somehow had Orcrist and was using it to block the stabbing claw of the Pale Orc's arm.

The claw that stabbed Fili.

His rage white-hot, Kili snarled, sweeping his sword around the orc's, kicking it in the knee. Its blade nicked his sleeve, but Kili had stepped backward, moving his head to avoid the swinging blade that passed a breadth from his face twice over. When the chance was open, he lunged forward and stabbed his sword into the orc's chest, knocking them both over onto the icy rock-ledge. The body going limp beneath him, his gloved hands still clutching the hilt, Kili looked up, ready to get up...

Thorin had then slid his sword aside, leaving him exposed.

The claw had plunged right through his uncle's chest.

His world collapsed. "NOOOO!" Kili's scream of agony and horror was barely comprehensive, tearing through his heart. All sounds became mute. He saw nothing but the tragic scene of watching his beloved uncle get murdered right before his very eyes. The only father he ever knew.

First Fili. Then Thorin. His family. His body shuddered with soundless sobs in his frozen state, tears running numbly down his cold face, not able to tear his eyes away. Azog grinning with glee and malice. Thorin's cries muted and hollow.

_Why, Uncle Thorin? Why?!_

Thorin had let the filth kill him. He had given up, as Kili had done before. Was it out of guilt? Of grief? _Why?!_

It was over. It was...

Suddenly, Thorin's sword thrust forward and plunged into the heart of Azog.

Kili watched with numb shock and befuddlement as Thorin threw Azog down with impossible strength and straddled the Orc King beneath him, the claw still stuck in his chest while Orcrist remained embedded in Azog's. Thorin's face was twisted in complete rage, despite his pain. Nothing like Kili had ever seen before in even the worst of their battles together. There was a struggle, until he watched with disbelief as Thorin pulled back again and thrust down Orcrist with all his strength, so deeply that the cracking of the ice could be heard in the distance.

Azog's limps finally went limp, staring up at Thorin in wide-eyed disbelief. Thorin leaned over the Pale Orc, seeming to say something to him, before Azog finally went still. He was dead.

Kili still hadn't moved when he watched Thorin slowly pull himself out of Azog's arm-spike and then shakily stood up, staring down at the body of the filth who had hunted down his kin for many years.

The leader of the orc army was dead. They had won.

Orcrist remained impaled in the body as Thorin turned around, swaying as he slowly walked with his head high across the sleekness of the ice. Red drops stained the white, trailing his footsteps.

_He's hurt! Uncle is hurt!_ His brain starting to work again, Kili finally broke out of his trance. His heart was pounding as he scrambled to his feet, picking his sword back up as he started down the slippery rocks looming over the ice. He nearly slipped twice as he made his way down elevating cliffs, until he leapt down, only to have his foot slip and him crashing to the ground. Groaning with pain, he sheathed his sword and started limping after his uncle, who was nearing the edge of the precipice, where the horizon shined like gold, the eagles crowding the skies with their screeches echoing, and the Lonely Mountain looming like a tall, gray stone giant. Powerful. Immortal. Beautiful and desolate.

Thorin stood at the ledge, staring out into the distance.

Kili quickened his pace, ignoring the pain in his hip as he cried out hoarsely, "Thorin! Uncle!" He was nearly there. Nearly there. The image of seeing Thorin get impaled burned in his mind and he despaired. _Please, no! Please! No!_

* * *

When Bilbo came to, his head hurt like...well, like he had been knocked out by the butt of an orc sword. Wincing from the fiery kick in his skull, he turned his head skywards, blinking away fuzzily into the golden light. And blinked again.

The swooping shapes of giant eagles battling giant bats crowded his vision. The eagles' musical shrieks confirmed their reality and not his imagination. They were quite a sight to behold.

"The eagles are coming," murmured Bilbo, relief rushing through him. More allies. When had they arrived? What happened?

_Fili._

Gasping, Bilbo sat up quickly, but grunted from the pain, his hand automatically going to the bloody bump at the back of his head. Then, turning his head, he found the grounds full of orc bodies. Then he spotted Fili, laying in the same spot near the tower. There was no sign of Dwalin.

Fearing the worst, Bilbo stumbled to his feet, picking up Sting, and rushed to Fili's side. The young blond dwarf looked pale and still as death. Heart pounding anxiously, Bilbo placed a hand over Fili's lips. To his relief, there was breath, though it was faint. The strip of Bilbo's jacket managed to slow the bleeding very well for an extended amount of time, but it was staining right through.

"Oh, Fili," whispered Bilbo.

Fili needed a healer, or it wouldn't be long before he bled out. But he couldn't carry Fili all the way off Ravenhill, and Bilbo didn't know where Dwalin was. For all he knew, the big dwarf could be swarmed by orcs at the moment.

_The eagles._

Turning towards the sky, Bilbo waved his arms and his sword. "HEY!" he shouted, trying to get the eagles' attention. He was almost certain the eagles could understand a call of distress. "HELP! WE NEED HELP! PLEASE!"

To his relief, one of the eagles that had just torn a bat to pieces in the sky noticed the hobbit's frantic calls and dove down. Bilbo jumped back as the large bird started coming toward him with graceful speed and landed before him with such unworldly majesty. The eagle looked like it was going to pick him up, but Bilbo waved his hands, shaking his head. "No, no, not me! Him!" He pointed at Fili. He never tried talking to the eagles before, and the very idea of talking to the great birds of Manwe astonished him, but the fear for his friends' life had Bilbo explaining without hesitation, "Please, I need you to take him to Dale. To...To where it's safe. Where the women and the children of the Men are. Please!"

"Bilbo!"

Bilbo turned and was relieved to find Dwalin running down the steps with blood-stained blades. "Dwalin! Thank goodness! I need your help!"

* * *

Thorin was strong. In Kili's eyes, he was the most powerful being in Middle-earth. He could survive this. He could still be saved. He had to be.

When he finally reached Thorin, his uncle had started to fall, but Kili managed to catch hold of him, grunting from the heavy weight. His arms tightened around Thorin, whose head leaned limply against his shoulder, his breath ragged, eyes closed from the pain.

"Thorin," gasped Kili, his voice cracking. He slowly and gently lay Thorin down until he laid across the ice, his head in the young dwarf's lap. Looking down, he spotted the bloody hole in Thorin's panting chest and nearly wretched from how deep it was. Finding it hard to breathe, gasping between sobs of fear and grief, Kili gently brushed sticky strands of hair out of his uncle's bloodstained face and then attempted to cover the wound to stop the bleeding. Thorin let out a strangled cough, blood dotting his lips as he struggled to breathe. The ice was polling with blood beneath him, and Kili struggled not to panic.

"Uncle?" Kili called out to him softly, as Thorin coughed again. "Uncle..."

Thorin's eyes slowly opened, still panting for breath. His pained blue eyes searched momentarily for the voice until they found the face of his youngest nephew. When recognition lit, Thorin gazed up at him, the tension in his face relaxing. "Kili," he whispered breathlessly.

Kili nodded and gave his uncle a smile, though tears pooled his eyes.

With some effort, Thorin lifted a gloved hand until the back of it pressed against the side of his nephew's face. Tracing his beautiful, warm smile. His eyes filled with tears as he gave his nephew a pained smile. "Kili," he said again. "You're alive….you're safe….Are my eyes dark?" Then he started coughing blood again, and Kili held him tight, shaking his head.

"No," he said desperately. "No, Thorin. I...Uncle, save your strength. I'll...I'll get help..."

"No," gasped Thorin, taking Kili's arm before he would get up. "Just...please stay...Stay with me..."

Kili instantly obeyed, taking his uncle's hand. "I'm not going anywhere," he promised, though his voice cracked, and Thorin relaxed, his eyes turning briefly toward the sky as his wound jolted. He stroked the dying dwarf's head. "You will be fine. Help is coming."

Thorin shook his head, tears forming. He kept recalling the times he had wronged this wonderful dwarf whom he raised, trained, and treasured his whole life. Most recently in the Mountain, when he had been under the dragon sickness. Now there was little time left, to say what he needed to say. "Kili...forgive me...Fili...I sent him to his death. I almost sent you…..to yours." His voice cracked, a tear running down the side of his face, while Kili shook his head. "I...I have wronged you both...abandoned you, after I swore that I wouldn't. I have failed you." His breath caught in anguish. "I'm so sorry, Kili. For everything."

"No, Uncle," Kili squeezed his hand to his chest, shaking his head in sorrow. "There is nothing to forgive. You weren't yourself. I know that now. Fili knew that."

Thorin kept gazing up at him in wonder. From his beloved nephew's soothing words alone, the burden in his soul lifted slightly.

"My strong, loyal sister-son…." he whispered, thick with emotion. "You are better than I ever could be….more forgiving than I deserve…." His voice cracked. "All I wanted was to give you Erebor...our home...your right as princes...I wanted to give you so much more...but all I gave you was pain."

A sob choked Kili. He wanted to deny it, just to comfort his uncle, but Thorin continued, "I know that I have failed you many times…and I know that I never showed it as often….but I have always loved you…..and I am so proud….of who you, what you have become….You and your brother...are the best thing that ever happened to me…you always have been…."

Tears streaming down his face, Kili leaned down and pressed his forehead against Thorin's, as they had done in Erebor before they charged into battle.

Thorin felt his nephew's tears drop on his face, and weakly cupped his hand over the young dwarf's head, breathing, "You have….brought me happiness, a reason to live on...such a gift that I will never be able to repay...not even with all the gold on this earth." When Kili lifted his head slightly to meet Thorin's eyes, the Dwarf King smiled. "You will bring strength…..and happiness to others…..as you have done me, my precious…..reckless Kili." He brushed the hair strands from his nephew's face, his thumb wipe a tear that lingered in his stubble. "And I am happy to be able to look upon you…as the proud warrior you are….one last time."

"No!" sobbed Kili, more tears pouring out. "No….Thorin, please…."

"Tell your mother...that I am sorry...tell her that I love her," Thorin breathed, feeling himself start to fade. Kili took a shuddering breath, swallowed thickly, and nodded.

Then Kili tightened his hold to him. "I love you, Uncle," he croaked. With so little time left, there was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to thank his uncle for, but above all, for being the only father he ever knew and ever loved. More than he did as a king.

Thorin felt more tears in his eyes, as he smiled up at Kili. "And I love you, my wolf pup," he whispered, using Kili's childhood nickname.

Feeling the warmth of Kili's arms around him, he remembered the very first time he held his youngest sister-son as a newborn, so small and precious, taking his first breaths into the world...and now Thorin was honored to now take his last breaths in the arms of the young dwarf he saw as his son, knowing that he was safe and alive. In time, his grief will lessen. He will move on. He will be a great king, as his brother would have been. Different, but better than Thorin would have ever been. In time, Kili will see that.

He felt darkness start to pull him in, the pain of his wound still burning. It wouldn't be long before Thorin passed. He would have lost a lot of blood by now. He would fall asleep, leaving behind many regrets. At least he truly found peace with his living sister-son...

"Bilbo!" exclaimed Kili suddenly, seeing the hobbit running down the stairs frantically.

"Bilbo," gasped Thorin, surprised and thankful to see his burglar friend. Automatically, his hand reached out and grabbed Bilbo's arm like a lifeline.

"I'm here," gasped Bilbo, kneeling down and reached out to check Thorin's injury, "don't move! Lie still. Oh!" His hands fumbled when he spotted the large, dark wound punctured deeply through Thorin's heaving chest. Bilbo held his wrist up to his nose and mouth, trying not to be sick. He quickly pulled it together and started applying pressure on the wound. Kili watched with silent tears, almost unseeing.

"I'm glad you are here," gasped Thorin, and Bilbo shushed him gently. He caught Bilbo's gaze. "I wish to part from with friendship..."

"No," said Bilbo, determinedly, trying to keep the despair out of his voice, "you are not going anywhere, Thorin. You're going to live." He tried to meet Kili's eyes, but was only met the young Dwarf Prince's tears of loss and heartbreak. There was no hope shining in his eyes, a sight that did not suit him very well. Kili gave the slightest shake of his head at Bilbo, before looking away. He already knew there was nothing to be done.

"I would take back...my words...and what I did at the gate," breathed Thorin, not paying attention to Bilbo's words. "You did what only a true friend would do. Forgive me." A tear of anguish ran down his face. "I was too blind to see it. I am so sorry...that I have led you into such peril." He grunted in pain, looking towards the sky as the wound jolted, causing Kili to adjust him more comfortably and stroked to calm him.

"No," said Bilbo, his hands moving to grip Thorin's and tried to catch the Dwarf King's eye desperately, "I am glad to shared to have shared in your perils, Thorin. Each and every one of them. And it's far more than any Baggins deserves."

Kili looked up at the hobbit in gratitude and amazement. Thorin was now looking up at the hobbit with wonder and surprise. Bilbo did not look upon him with any resentment. Heartbreak, but with fondness and sincerity.

Bilbo continued with a small smile, glancing up at Kili, "Fili is alive. The eagles are carrying him back to Dale. Dwalin is with him." Kili gasped in disbelief. The shine reappeared in his eyes, filled with hope and life. Bilbo nodded, looking down at Thorin, who was smiling with tears of joy. "He may be able to make it, Thorin. Just hold on, and you...we can save you both. The eagles….the eagles are here, Thorin…."

_Fili is alive...He may be able to make it..._ Kili was gasping for breath as he was starting to process it. He was feeling a mixture of emotions: joy and relief, but also pain and despair. He had gained his brother back, but was also losing his uncle. And Fili didn't know.

Hearing that Fili was alive, and feeling Kili close to him, Thorin now felt truly at peace. He would die knowing, not only had they truly reclaimed their homeland, but that Fili and Kili were safe. That Fili may rule as King Under the Mountain. That Kili will be by his side as his heir. The dwarves would have their home. His sister-sons will make peace with Men of Dale, and possibly the elves.

Now knowing that Bilbo Baggins held no ill-will against him, Thorin had never felt so light. As if all the burdens he carried throughout his life were fading away.

He squeezed Bilbo's hand. "Farewell, Master Burglar," he whispered. "Go back to your books...and your armchair...Plant your trees, watch them grow..." He struggled for breath, looking upon Bilbo's face, who was trying his best to smile for Thorin despite the clear devastation in his eyes. "If more people...valued a home...above gold...this world would be a merrier place."

"No, no, no, Thorin," whispered Bilbo, helplessly. "No, don't you dare..."

_Oh, Bilbo._ Thorin smiled at him sadly. Somehow it comforted him to know that Bilbo will grieve for him, though he hoped that in time this wonderful little hobbit will find happiness again. He really believed he would. Bilbo had the ability to bring courage and peace to others. Including for himself. He would find peace for himself, back in the Shire.

_Live, child of the kindly West. Live on, and be free from the darkness._

Then he slowly turned his head to look up at Kili.

The golden light of the sky framed around his sister-son, making the chestnut color of his hair reflect a vibrant glow. Though tears glittered, his brown eyes shined even more brighter than they had before, though there was still sorrow. Grief, for the parting of his uncle and king. But there was also the spark of joy, for the news of his brother's survival, melded with look of love. The love of a son to a father. Perhaps it was the light of Mahal showing the beauty of Kili's soul. In that moment, he saw Kili as the sweet, innocent little dwarfling that always smiled and was so full of life. Now he saw that little dwarfling become a full-fledged warrior, still the same but more experienced. A prince of Erebor.

Beside Kili, he could see the bright smile of Fili, his golden lion. A true king.

His sons. Together. The pride and love he felt for both of them would be with them. Forever. Until they were old and gray, having lived long lives. He would wait for them. He would watch as his boys would live their live, their love and compassion adding more merriment to the world, and together, they would make Erebor whole again. Thorin truly believed it, and he could not have been more prouder.

_Kili._ While breathing his name, gazing into the face of his sister-son, the light in Thorin's eyes faded and his body slackened in Kili's arms with a final sigh. The proud and mighty soul of Thorin, son of Thrain, son Thror, passed into eternity.

* * *

Kili stared down at his uncle's face with a trembling jaw, shocked tears running down his nose. Those blue glassy eyes staring back at him, devoid of life...the bleeding stopped...he knew his uncle was gone. He could feel it. With agonized silence and tears, Kili trembled as he lifted a hand and stroked Thorin's face with tenderness. Then, after closing his uncle's eyes, Kili then leaned the body of the dwarf whom he loved like a father, clutching to him fiercely, and cried like a baby.

Bilbo also looked in shock. Having felt Thorin's hand fall limp in his own and then watching Kili weep over the body of his beloved uncle, the hobbit felt heavy tears run down his own cheeks and whimpers escaped his throat. He placed a comforting hand over Kili's shaking body, while his other cupped the head of the Dwarf King, whom he had traveled many miles, through peril and over lands. The stubborn dwarf who had become his friend, now gone from this world. Bilbo's heart was crushed.

Leaning down until his face was inches within Thorin's, Bilbo whispered with grief, "Farewell, King Under the Mountain."

He then kissed Thorin's forehead, before sitting back, shaking with tears, while watching Kili continue to hug Thorin close.

* * *

It was not long before all the dwarves found them, along with the wizard, traveling up Ravenhill until finding Kili still lying across Thorin, weeping. Bilbo had departed from the scene, sitting only a small distance away to grieve alone in silence, Gandalf joining him to smoke a pipe.

They all started to kneel before their fallen king in grief, though Balin knelt beside the weeping Kili, tears running down his own face. Dwalin stood vigil over them, his stoic face threatening to break with tears from the sight his fallen king. His brother-in-arms. He knew that he had been with Fili in Dale when Thorin had passed. After placing the crowned prince in the healing chambers, Dwalin had instantly rushed back into the field, only to find the orcs retreating from the field. The Company of Thorin Oakenshield had reunited on the battlefield, carry small wounds and scratches, but were all alive and overjoyed with their victory.

Together, led by Dwalin and Gandalf, they set off back to Ravenhill to find the heirs of Durin. But they were too late. Though relieved to see their young prince alive, their king was dead, and with him, the Pale Orc. He had died saving them, proud and honorable, like the king he truly was. His name would be passed through legend, and his legacy to the crowning of his sister-son, Fili, son of Dis.

Not far behind, Tauriel watched from the rocks as her beloved dwarf grieved over his kin, her heart shattering at the sight of seeing him in so much pain. For respect of King Thorin, she placed a hand over her heart and bowed her head.

As if sensing her presence, Kili lifted his head slowly, tears and hair stuck to his face, but his eyes found Tauriel's. He found comfort in her gaze, feeling the warmth of her love shroud to him.

Knowing that she was there for him, and the knowledge that his brother may live, Kili laid his forehead down on Thorin's bloody chest in silence. Somehow, even in death, his uncle seemed to proud and invincible.

"Farewell, brother of my mother," he whispered silently to Thorin. "My king…" He took a shuddering breath.

"My father."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we're nearing the conclusion. It should be a brief chapter, but it will belong to Fili now:)


	6. Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conclusion
> 
> Fili is King Under the Mountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession: I actually waited for the extended edition of BOTFA for this scene. Did you know it's rated R? At first, I was like "No way! This started out as a children's novel, and even Return of the King, most violent of the LOTR movies, wasn't that highly rated", but then I saw orcs and wargs literally being torn to shreds by war machines, and then I was like, blank-faced, "Oh. Right."
> 
> And now for the final part...

It was the bellowing horn of Dale, echoing across the wintry hills of the battlefield and the desolation of the Lonely Mountain with its thunderous, triumphant song, that had cleared the dark oblivion.

Silence had claimed the land when all that was left of the surviving orcs were driven out by a vengeful alliance of Dwarves, Elves, Men, and Eagles. The song of victory was also a song of mourning.

There was no cheering. No smiles, laughter, or any celebration that spoke of triumph. Only the horn of Dale spoke for the silent, mourning wounded souls of all those who witnessed the horrors of blood and death. They won, but at a large cost. The price of many deaths-friends, family, companions-was too great.

But in the midst of grief, as they listened to the horn shake the mountains in silent vigilance, was relief.

Immense relief.

It was over. Though they had lost many familiar faces, many others had survived. As the people of Dale turned solemn faces toward the icy cliffs of Ravenhill, they sensed the change in the air. The loss of someone great and well-known.

As Bard-now hailed as King Bard the Dragonslayer and the Lord of Dale-gazed into the golden sunlit sky beyond the horizon, his hands gripping the tiny shoulders of his youngest whom he held especially close, he felt as if he had awoken from a nightmare. Seeing the sun's light making his precious children's faces glow, their gray eyes sparkling with a brand-new hope despite the fading shock and solemnity in their expressions, relief was all Bard could feel at this moment.

His children and the people of Lake Town were alive and safe. After all the hardship, all the suffering, and all the injustice that they had been put through their entire lives, especially after what happened very recently with the dragon, the dwarves, and then with the Orc Army, they had survived.

Things will change, Bard knew, but for the better. There will be more hard work, more struggles to deal with in the after effects of battle, including the rebuilding of Dale and the unsettled bargain with Thorin Oakenshield and the dwarves...but after everything that happened with the great alliance that formed against the enemy, Bard could feel no more ill-tension in the air.

Things will be different. Stranger, unfamiliar with the change in many lives (especially for him and his family), but for the better. He felt Sigrid and Bain press close to either side of his shoulders for warmth, and his little Tilda lean backwards against his torso, giving him the desire to pick her up and hold her close, to be just a father of three before he would have to go back to his role as leader.

To think that he had almost lost them, his babies, to dragon-fire and orcs in between the past few weeks. Despite feeling some of the anger he still felt towards the dwarves, toward Thorin, for cheating Lake Town of their share, he could feel eternally grateful for the ones who protected his greatest treasures, and will remember it when hoping to start again with both the dwarves and the elves.

Whatever else may come, whoever had lost their lives today and whoever shall be mourned, all Bard could do was hold his children close as they watched the sky and listened to the horn, to be reassured that they are alive, safe, and will endure whatever else comes their way.

They had made it.

* * *

On the alter, Thorin Oakenshield lay cold and white, dressed in the finest furs and tunics, his long mane of raven black spread like bellowing winds around his broad shoulders and his proud, regal face relaxed in peace. Tucked in his leather-gloved hands, folded just below his chest and above his silver belt, shining brightly with all its glittering seams of frosty white like a living soul, was the Arkenstone. Returned rightfully in the place of its owner, the true Heart of the Mountain.

At his feet, pale of faces and drained with internal grief, were his heirs and nephews, Fili and Kili, sons of Dis. Fili was dressed just as magnificently as his uncle in furs and broidery, the winged crown framing his face and golden mane, which looked darkened like the dullness in his blue eyes. While one hand wrapped around his brother's, the other gripped tightly on a crutch.

Having broken a leg, a few ribs, and crack his hipbone, the elder Durin leaned slightly against Kili, who nodded slightly, his eyes watching the peaceful expression of their uncle. He swallowed hard, his face pale and drained just as Fili felt.

Even in death, Thorin Oakenshield looked majestic.

Though his expression struggled to remain composed, his little brother's hands squeezed Fili's arm for reassurance. Fili really wanted to comfort his brother here and now, but he couldn't. Neither he nor Kili could not break down in front of nearly the whole kingdom of dwarves. Ever since Fili had woken up, Kili by his side, they had their time to shed tears in the sanctuary where Fili was healed, his life no longer in danger but his body crippled in a way that will never allow him to charge in battle again.

Fili remembered embracing a tearful, sobbing Kili, while he himself had been in shock and only processed in comforting his younger brother. Thorin was dead. His uncle was gone, yet he was alive. How was that possible? he had thought. He had then learned that he would have bled to death if it had not been for Bilbo. That Kili would not have been alive it hadn't been for the two elves, Legolas Greenleaf and Tauriel, who have saved Kili's life multiple times before.

While Fili had been unconscious, Kili had met with Tauriel again. Whatever was said between the two, Fili quickly learned that most of their previous conversation was not his business, but knew that his brother was deeply in love with her and was not planning on giving her up at any time in his life, no matter where she was. Fili would have even sworn he spotted some swollen red marks on Kili's lips from a deep, passionate kiss and winced at the thought of his little brother kissing an elf.

He _did_ scold Kili for that, or attempted to….but in the end, Kili remained unmoved, claiming his feelings to be real and un-dying. In spite of his worries, Fili would remain supportive of his reckless little brother, as always, and seek out the beautiful she-elf to _thank_ her properly. His brother deserved to be happy again and it would be good to start a new relationship with the elves, but that will be something to think about later. He was honestly tired of all the lifetime grudges and rivalries his uncle had held on to.

Of war. Of death. No more.

The two young dwarves had shared their words of grief, in private, as two brothers who have lost a beloved uncle.

But now, for the sake of many, as the sons of Durin, they must remain strong. No matter what their pain and personal loss, they must embrace it with pride and dignity...at least in the eyes of those who will be looking up to them from now on. Thorin had taught them that.

But it was only because the brothers were able to stand by each other, wounded but alive and together, that they had found the strength to manage such a facade.

The air of the dark cavern was filled with the silence of grief, lit by thousands of golden candle light glowing like stars in the dark night sky, or the souls of many who have passed on in eternal peace. The resting place felt spiritual, as though each little flame were the essence of the Mahal's Halls, weighed by the heavy hearts of those who gathered in the tomb. Among them at present were also Gandalf, Radagast, and Beorn.

Only the chosen twelve-thirteen, to include Bilbo-walked among the platform that presented the body of their king, who fallen in battle, taking down Azog the Defiler, passing from this life in the arms of Kili, his youngest nephew and heir, and Bilbo Baggins of the Shire.

Fili closed his eyes. If only he had been there for Kili, to say a final farewell to Thorin...but he never had the chance. He had barely made it out himself if it hadn't been for Bilbo and Dwalin.

Some tears were shed, Balin's face twisted in grief, for he had watched many sons of Durin fall before their time. Too many. Dwalin paused beside Kili and Bilbo, his eyes glittering with sadness, but the slightest twitch of his mouth said what everyone though: _Look how proud he looks. A brave king, a loyal friend, and a loving uncle, to the very end._

Fili nodded to him in agreement. Indeed, Dwalin had been Thorin's closest friend, and was practically an uncle to him and Kili, so he will continue to have him and Kili's backs, while Balin will continue to be their advisor. Fili could not have been more grateful.

Bilbo stood before the candles' light surrounding Thorin, bowing his head briefly as though in prayer. His face grimaced with grief, trying hard to shed more tears. It had been two days since it happened and the blow was still all too real for the poor hobbit.

"The king has come unto his own," Gandalf's voice boomed throughout the large room. "Under mountain, under stone. Send him now unto the deep. Unto earth, eternal sleep. Under mountain, under stone."

"Under mountain, under stone," echoed all the dwarves in the great room.

"Through all the lands, let it be known." Then Gandalf called out to the many, many glowing candle light, "The king is dead!"

Balin lifted a fist to the many rows of candle light. "Long live the king!" he cried, a tear running down his face.

"Long live the king!" cried the dwarves in return, unsheathing their swords, exes, and hammers in salute. Even Kili unsheathed his sword. The dwarves of the Iron Hills, lead Dain Ironfoot, instantly unsheathed their silver swords in salute.

Fili stood in the center of all on his own, facing the many dwarves with a fierce, stoic expression with all the glory of his attire and crown. The new King Under the Mountain. He bowed his head formerly to all, acknowledging all, as Thorin would have done.

A king at heart, Thorin Oakenshield was irreplaceable...but many already had a feeling that the newly crowned king, his young sister-son, the Lion of Durin, would come to surpass him.

* * *

"There is to be a great feast tonight," Balin said to Bilbo as they walked out of the open doors of the mountain. "Songs will be sung, tales will be told, and Thorin Oakenshield...will be passed on to legend." Balin looked back into the darkness of the entrance with some sadness, but great pride.

Bilbo was all packed up, having slipped out of the room during the burial after the dwarves had saluted to their new king. Noticing this, Balin had followed him out after, very persist in making sure Bilbo got his one-fourteenth of treasure (one small chest and a shield, really, as the former-burglar insisted on making do). The old advisor made a plead for Bilbo to stay a little longer, but Bilbo gently declined, wanting to leave on his journey home without delay. His heart still grieved and he missed his home very much...though he knew that there would always be half of him that would remain here with Thorin and Company forever.

"I know that's how you must honor him," said Bilbo, softly, "but to me, he was never that. He was...To me...he was..." He swallowed, his eyes misting up in trance, before he blinked and cleared his throat, seeing Gandalf already waiting for him. "I think I'll slip quietly away. Will you tell the others I said good-bye?"

Balin smiled. "You can tell them yourself." He nodded toward the doorway. Bilbo followed his gaze, and gave a small, startled chuckle as the sight of his dwarvish friends watching him from the doorway, all smiling with tears in their eyes. In the center of them all were Kili and King Fili, who was supported on either side by both his brother and Dwalin.

King Fili. How very strange it sounded! To think that one of those two young, mischievous dwarves that pranked him constantly on their long journey...well, Bilbo always knew that Fili always had it in him from the very start, even before the hobbit knew he and his brother were princes. He will be a great leader. There was a great pride in his heart that swelled as much as his sorrow.

Lump in his throat, Bilbo approached and then stood before Fili, who gestured for Dwalin and Kili to let go of him before standing proudly in spite of his pain. Feeling a little awkward, Bilbo started to bow, when Fili instantly reached out to place his hand on the hobbit's shoulder to stop him. "Master Baggins," he said, "peacemaker, savior, and friend...you did not bow to Thorin before, you will certainly not bow to me."

Bilbo swallowed nervously, though he was aware of Fili and Kili's amused smiles. Despite their grief, and though they have greatly matured in heart and soul, the hobbit was more than thankful that they can still smile mirthfully like before.

"I never got a chance to thank you for saving my life," continued Fili. "Dwalin told me everything."

"But not Thorin's," said Bilbo, voice cracking. "I...I am so sorry...that I could not have done more."

"As I had heard from my brother in the hour of our mourning," said Fili, nodding to his brother, "you and Kili had given him peace in his final moments. Something that I still wish I could have done. The fact that you were there to forgive him for his previous actions was more than I could have asked for. You truly are a kind soul, Bilbo," he whispered the last part.

"And any guilt you would have felt in his death, I share with you," added Kili solemnly. He gave a sad chuckle. "Know that you are not alone."

Bilbo nodded, feeling half-shamed and half-relieved of his previous worries before Fili and Kili's words. They were right. Thorin would not want them to have any more regrets.

"Thorin," began Bilbo, looking both Fili and Kili in the eye, marveling in how far they had both come. He forced a smile. "H-He...He would be so proud of you. Both of you."

Tears now shining in his eyes, Kili then stepped forward and shamelessly gave Bilbo a fierce hug. Bilbo gasped in surprise, but quickly returned the embrace with one arm, struggling not to cry.

"He would be proud of you, too," croaked Kili, before pulling back. Bilbo nodded to him in thanks as Kili stepped back to his brother's side, and then repeated the gesture to Fili, who bowed his head back with shining blue eyes.

Stepping back, Bilbo turned to the rest of the Company, stuck for a moment with what to say. Finally, he said, "Ah, if any of you are ever passing Bag End, uh...tea is at four. There's plenty of it. You are welcome any time."

They all bowed to him. Including Fili with Kili's help. Bilbo began to start off, before adding with a hint of of humor, "Uh...don't bother knocking."

They all laughed tearfully. Oh, they will be sure to make good on _that_ promise. All the more reason Fili was determined to heal fast to try that out with Kili. Despite the chance that he may never run in battle again, he will be more than certain to be well enough for travels, at the very least.

Who knew.

Then, without another word, Bilbo Baggin turned around and walked into the sunset with Gandalf at his side. The dwarves watched them go, hoping in the their hearts that they will see him again soon.

They knew where to find him.

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm no medical expert, at all, but I figured this would be the best way of stopping a two way wound from bleeding too fast. 
> 
> I also wanted Bilbo to learn something from Bofur tearing his shirt for a "handkerchief" and Oin showing Bilbo a few tricks of stopping someone's bleeding while bonding on the journey. So in a way, Bilbo is saving Fili's life. 
> 
> I hope you think that's okay. Pray for Fili, and hope help arrives in time. Up next is Kili's POV.


End file.
